


Nice Jammies

by 221butterbeers



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Drabble, Fluff, Humor, Late at Night, M/M, Merthur - Freeform, Modern AU, Modern Era, maybe idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 01:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2529665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221butterbeers/pseuds/221butterbeers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fire alarm went off at 3AM. Now Merlin's stuck standing next to the cute guy from down the hall who's only in his underwear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nice Jammies

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so this will probably be utter rubbish (whoops sorry)  
> Um, comments are always nice?  
> Hope you like it, please don't hate me *hides*

Now, either his dream had taken a rather loud turn or the fire alarm had gone off. Sadly, it was the latter. It took Merlin a few seconds to realise what was ringing obnoxiously throughout his apartment, but once recognised he sat bolt up right and scrambled out of his bed. 

_The fire alarm?_ He moaned inwardly, _Who creates a fire at_ \- he looked at the clock on his bedside cabinet - _three AM?!_

Haphazardly slugging on his dressing gown and slippers he slid out the door and jogged to the lift. 

As he was about to press the button a voice called out behind him, "Did you never learn fire safety at school?"

"What?" Merlin replied, leaving his index finger longing for the elevator button. 

"The stairs." The voice said, before slinking off to the stairwell. 

Following said voice - who had a very fine bum, might Merlin add - it was then he cursed himself for living on the sixth floor. He also cursed himself for thinking said voice had a very attractive back-

Wait: back?

Ah, yes. Well, Mr. Did You Never Learn Fire Safety must have taken his fire safety too literally as he looked as though he'd ran straight out of his flat as soon as he'd heard the godforsaken siren without a second thought to what he was wearing. 

Merlin couldn't help but let his eyes follow the muscles in Sir Fine-Bum Attractive-Back's back constrict and contort as the both of them hurried down the six flights of stairs. It was only once they had got to the fourth floor when Merlin realised who he was following: the new guy from down the hall. He'd only moved in a week ago and, oh, how Merlin had embarrassed himself. 

Intending on asking if he needed any help with unpacking or getting his boxes up the elevator, Merlin went across the hallway to the newly bought apartment (after ogling the man whose torso was staring to glimmer with sweat from luging heavy luggage around for at least an hour, of course). The first thing to go miraculously wrong was when he went to rattle his knuckle against the door, the blond man had already opened it and Merlin was stuck there with his fist halfway in the air. 

After smoothly covering it up by stretching - super smooth Merlin - he set his plan into motion. "I live down the hall and was wondering whether you need any help?" 

Much to his disappointment (and slight embarrassment) Merlin's kind and very thoughtful offer was turned down with a snarky remark, "You don't look like the sort to be hauling heavy objects around. Come back when you can unscrew the lid off a pickle jar." 

Narrowing his eyes slightly and opening his mouth Merlin had replied, "Excuse me?"

"No, excuse me." The blond man pushed past him and went to pick up another cardboard box, this one marked 'kitchen'. 

"You must be tired from doing this all by yourself?" Merlin had tried to reason. 

But the other man had had none of it: "Will you just move; it's easier if I do it myself." 

What Merlin would have liked to been able to say about the whole escapade was that he didn't screw up, but, this being Merlin, he did. Once again trying to be smooth and nonchalant, he was half way through mumbling the word 'whatever' when he tripped massively over a box labeled 'bedroom' and another labeled 'photos'. 

The sound of shattering glass and Mr Pretty Blue Eyes swearing and shouting at him still haunted him to this day. Although, if he was honest, the swearing and shouting might have aroused him slightly. 

But Merlin doesn't think about _that_. Especially when Merlin realises they're on the ground floor now and are heading to the street outside. Oh, and low and behold: it's freezing. 

Graciously wrapping his dressing gown around him, he noticed Lord Come Back When You Can Unscrew The Lid Off A Pickle Jar was only wearing his underwear. And what nice underpants they were too-

What? Who said that?

Merlin was definitely _not_ thinking that those black silk boxers clung - surprisingly - in just the right places; he certainly _was not_ looking at his arse when he walked past to ask if anyone had called the fire brigade. And he definitely did not notice that his arms and legs were covered in goosebumps. 

As soon as he'd said it, Merlin knew he'd regret it, "Do you want my gown?"

"What?" Blond-Hair Black-Boxers replied, bemused. 

"Er - well, you're cold aren't you?" He stammered. 

"Great deduction skills." Tried sarcasm dripped from every word that rolled from his mouth. 

"I'm only trying to be nice." Merlin snapped back, "Did you never learn manners at school?"

"Yes, I did actually." A smirk of perfect white teeth brushed over his face then he added, "And, yes please. I would like your gown."

Merlin found his eyes rolling as he shrugged off the heavy robe handing it to the bulkier man with tousled golden hair. 

"Thanks." He muttered as he shivered into the warm fabric. 

It was an afterthought, but Merlin had to know, "What's your name?"

"Urh, Arthur." He responded, probably not thinking Merlin would have continued the conversation, "Yours?"

"Merlin." He smiled. 

Arthur blew air out of his mouth in a chuckling sort of way, "Well, Merlin. Nice jammies."


End file.
